Never Let a Superhero in the Kitchen
by insomniacbookworm
Summary: ...without proper guidance, of course. Five times the heroes of the Justice League and their sidekicks tried to cook.
1. Artemis and Wally

A/N: This is what I get when I don't bring any homework to study hall. Maybe I should do that more often…

This is going to be a set of five (I think), and I'll try to publish at least one a week. They're all planned out and everything, just waiting to be written.

I'd like to point out I am not an expert in cooking, dumplings or otherwise, so if there are any mistakes in this or future entries, you're welcome to point them out.

Okay! I'm done!

Disclaimer: I do not own Young Justice.

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><p>Mount Justice<p>

January 12, 2:07 P.M.

Artemis leaned over an old cookbook, squinting at the print. "So I just roll them up…?"

"Hey Artemis!" A red and yellow blur raced into the kitchen.

Artemis jumped in surprise, nearly sending the carefully balanced pot of hot water next to her to the floor. "Wally! A little warning next time!"

"Sorry, Arty. Got any snacks?" The speedster zoomed to the fridge and quickly scanned its contents before he pulled out several slices of ham, a cucumber, two blocks of cheese, a container of mustard, and a tomato. He then ran to the cupboard to find a loaf of bread.

"Um, yes? Why are you still in uniform?"

"Had to race down to Central to help out Flash. Another weird outbreak of ice villains. Thought I'd see who was at the Cave. What'cha cookin'?"

Artemis looked down at the disks of sticky dough she was creating. "Bánh ít trần dumplings. It… It's my mom's birthday and I thought I'd make a surprise dinner."

Wally took a large bite of his completed masterpiece of a sandwich. "Sweet! Can I help?"

"No."

"Come on! I'm bored!"

"Wally, you just got here, you can't be bored already. And no."

"I make a mean baloney sandwich."

"Dumplings are not a baloney sandwich, they're real food. Go find Robin or something."

"He's out with Bats chasing Mr. Freeze. Said he'd be back later." He swallowed the rest of his snack and got some water. "I bet I'm a much better cook than you think."

Artemis snorted. "Sure you are. Just get out before I have to find my bow."

"Fine, fine. Have fun with your-" He leaned over the cookbook. "Ban it tran." And off he went, disappearing into the depths of the Cave.

"It's pronounced-" She began to shout after him, but gave up, knowing he was too far away anyway. "Argh!"

2:17 P.M.

"Needs more salt." Wally, now in civvies, held a dumpling with a large bite taken out of it in his hand.

"Wally! Didn't I say not to bother me!" Artemis screeched in surprise.

"Not in so many words. You know, these are good. I didn't know you could cook." He finished the dumpling.

"Um, thanks. I think."

"…Does this mean I can help?"

"No."

2:31 P.M.

Artemis placed another rack of cooked dumplings on the counter, inspecting her creations.

Wait.

Something was missing.

"Wally! Quit eating all the dumplings!"

The redhead zoomed into the kitchen at the sound of his name. She wasn't sure what he had been doing, but it probably hadn't been very productive, judging by the bag of Chicken Whizees in his hand. "What?"

"I won't have any left if you keep eating them all!"

Wally's eyebrows scrunched in confusion. "I thought you hated Chicken Whizees?"

"What? No, I'm talking about the dumplings."

"Well, I'm not the one eating them! Other than that one… But I haven't been in here since, I swear!" He raised his hands in defense. "I can't blame whoever is stealing them though. They are soo good…" His hand subconsciously moved toward the rack of warm dough balls. Artemis smacked it away.

"You expect me to believe that, Kid Stomach?"

"Yes! You can ask Kaldur, I was just talking to him." He glanced over at the trays. "You know, I bet M'gann took them. She probably just floated them through the door while you weren't looking."

"Nope. She has cheer practice until three. Face it, Wally, you've been caught." Artemis smirked, crossing her arms, a ladle still gripped in one hand.

"I'm telling the truth! I have no idea how-" Wally's eyes widened, focusing on something behind the archer.

A mischievous cackle rang out. "I've got to hand it to you, Arty, these are delicious." Robin hung upside down above the counter by a line with a dumpling in each hand.

"You little-"

"Ah, ah, ah, Artemis. You don't want Batman to hear, do you? The boy ninja disappeared into the shadows above.

"Robin!"

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><p>AN: Hehehe… I love Robin.

Review!

Next up: Superman or Green Arrow?


	2. Green Arrow

AN: Voila! Chapter 2!

Disclaimer: I do not own Young Justice. I do own this story.

This took me way longer than I expected. Oh well. It's done now.

Thank you to everyone who reviewed/favorited/followed! You're awesome! Also, huge thanks to RiderPhantomhive who gave me the idea for this one. I still can't believe that exists.

Again, if you find any mistakes please let me know. I've read it over a hundred times but I keep changing things. I apologize in advance if anyone is OOC. I've never really written any of these characters before.

Anyway, read on!

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><p>January 22, 7:22 P.M.<p>

Roy understood he and Oliver were not on good terms. He was the cause for that, and he didn't regret it. Much.

But the billionaire had taken him in, and for a while they were family, and family is allowed to visit family. Especially when they are not expecting it.

"Hello?" Roy called from the entrance hall of the Queen Estate. He had just broken in, sort of, but he figured he could at least be polite and alert whoever was inside to his presence. One never knew what they might walk in on.

At first only silence greeted the archer, but as he continued his path through the house, Roy could hear muffled curses emanating from the direction of the kitchen.

Uh oh.

If there was one thing you learn while living with Oliver Queen, it is that you never let him go anywhere near the kitchen. The last cook, who they hired in fear of Ollie going near their food, even went so far as to map out a ten-foot radius barrier around the doorway and directly stated that, "Mr. Queen was not to come anywhere near this line."

Except the cook had been fired, for reasons better left unexplained, and now Ollie had free reign of the kitchen.

It's not that he couldn't cook- he could, quite well actually. The only problem was what he chose to cook. Theoretically, the man could make delicious three-cheese ravioli, but instead he would go with the extra-hot Cajun jambalaya. Everyone from the extended Queen family to the Justice League knew you stayed away from GA's creations. And if he ever offered you anything you sniff it first to be sure it won't burn your throat out before sending it into a nearby plant when the archer's back is turned.

Roy cautiously approached the room, not knowing what he would find. "Ollie?"

"Roy!" Oliver spun around at his place by the stove, a dripping spoon and a bottle of tabasco sauce in his hands. A large pot sizzled behind him and the smell of something peppery- jalapeño? – permeated the air. "What are you doing here?"

The younger man stepped into the kitchen. "Thought I'd pay a visit. Should I ask…?"

"Oh! This… I told Dinah I'd make something for our date tonight. It's almost done." Ollie dripped a bit more hot sauce into the mixture.

"Dinah's letting you cook?"

"Yep. It took some cajoling, and not a small bit of flattery, but she finally gave in." He stirred the pot a few times before tasting it. "Nearly there." He muttered. To Roy, who was still standing rather awkwardly by the doorway, he said, "Since you're here, you could set out some of the side dishes. They're in the fridge, I think."

Roy didn't answer, but walked over to the refrigerator. Before reaching it, however, he paused, sniffed, and froze. "Wait a minute. That's not the chili, is it?"

Oliver looked at him questioningly. "Of course it's the chili! Why?"

Roy let out a long-suffering sigh. "Ollie, you might not be able to get enough of it, but some of us enjoy having taste buds. You can't make that stuff for a date. You're just lucky it's Dinah and not some poor unsuspecting soul."

Oliver sighed. "Roy, don't worry. She's had it before, it'll be fine."

Roy crossed the room again and began opening cabinets, searching for some alternative to save his former mentor. "Do you have any normal food in this place?"

Oliver scoffed. "Oh, look who's talking. When was the last time you actually made yourself an actual meal? And microwaving does not count," he added before Roy could answer.

The younger man sent him a glare, but he stopped going through the food stores. "Fine. You win, Ollie."

The billionaire was surprised. "…Really?"

"Yep. Now if you want, I can take care of anything else that needs to be done. Date's at eight, right?"

"Yeah, but-"

"You haven't lost all faith in me, have you? As you said, it'll be fine." Oliver hesitantly relinquished the tobacco sauce and spoon over to Roy before slowly walking to the doorway.

He took a last look back at his former protégé. "You sure there's no ulterior motive here?"

Roy glanced at him from the corner of his eye. "No. Just me trying to, er, make for some of the stuff I've done in the past."

Oliver nodded, searching for anything to suggest he was lying. He must have passed because Ollie continued his way to the stairs. "Right. Well," He cleared his throat, "Just don't set anything on fire, okay?"

"I think that's more your area than mine."

Oliver snorted and disappeared.

Roy looked around the now empty kitchen, towards the boiling pot on the stove. His gaze shifted to stare at the cabinets, where he knew he could find an unopened box of pasta. His plan was in place.

Time to get to work.

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><p>8:04 P.M.<p>

_Ding dong._ The Queen Estate's custom doorbell rang.

"Roy? Can you get that?" Oliver called. He stood in front of his mirror, trying to choose between two ties.

The younger archer did not answer. "Roy?"

Still nothing. Oliver threw both ties down on a chair. What did they add to his appearance anyway?

Bounding down the staircase, he called one more time for his former ward. Was it like Roy to leave without telling him? Actually, yes, extremely like him.

The billionaire reached the dining room on his way to the door, taking a quick glance inside. Hm. Roy had really outdone himself on the settings. Maybe he had been telling the truth about making up after all. He'd have to thank him later for doing all this.

Oliver was tempted to go over and open the pot in the center to check on the chili, but he turned around when the doorbell rang out once again.

"Dinah!" Oliver exclaimed at the woman standing on his front step.

"Oliver." The blonde greeted him with a kiss.

"Don't you look lovely."

She smiled. "I try."

The two made their way to the dining room. "So, what's for dinner?"

"It's a surprise, you'll just have to wait and see." They entered, Oliver sweeping open the door with a grand gesture.

Dinah's eyes widened as she took in the array. "I cannot believe you actually took the time to make dinner."

"Well, I would do anything for you, D." He poured her a glass of wine from the (extremely expensive) bottle sitting on the table. She took it and clinked the glass against his.

"So, surprise time?"

"One minute." Oliver moved to pull out a chair for Dinah, which she accepted graciously. Walking back around the table, he leaned over and pulled off the lid to the chili pot.

Except there was no chili. In its place was a heap of pasta.

It only took a second for the archer to figure out what had happened.

Roy. Never mind thanking him, Oliver would probably kill him.

Dinah was oblivious to this revelation. A look of surprise flashed across her face before quickly being replaced with a smile. "I have to admit I was not expecting this. It looks delicious, Ollie. For a while I was worried you might make some of your chili."

On second thought, maybe he would thank Roy. After he'd killed him, of course.

_breakline_

Roy snuck out the back door as the doorbell rang. He slipped into the shadows, thanking Robin for giving him some pointers on camouflage.

The nearest zeta-tube was practically on top of the Queen residence, for obvious reasons, allowing Roy to bypass going through the city. Typing in his destination code, Roy wondered how hard it would be to look nonchalant while walking through the streets of Gotham with a still-steaming pot of chili.

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><p><em>The Continuing Adventures of Ollie's Stupendous Chili<em>

Wayne Manor

January 22, 8:19 P.M.

Two heads peeked around the corner of the kitchen doorway, one dark haired, the other a flaming red.

"I thought he could only eat it when he was in Batman mode." The redhead said.

"Apparently Bruce Wayne likes it too."

The redhead looked to his friend with a determined expression. "Dick, we have to save Roy."

"From what?"

"From the chili, dude!"

_breakline_

"Roy, how could you!"

"We thought we were your best friends!"

"Please don't leave us, it's not worth it!"

The three men in the kitchen stared at the two boys kneeling by their friend. The older two wore expressions of amusement, while the younger looked confused.

"Dick, what's this about?" Bruce asked his ward.

"Roy's eaten the chili!"

"He's going to die!" Wally added.

"Relax, young sirs. Mr. Queen's chili has never harmed anyone," assuaged Alfred, the ever practical.

Bruce snorted, and said quietly as he spooned up another bite of the mixture, "Tell that to Clayface."

The boys were still watching Roy—or more so the bowl in his hands, as if it would burst into flames at any second. The archer, for his part, simply took another bite of the spicy dish.

"You know, it's actually not that bad."

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><p>AN: Thanks for reading!<p>

Next up: Batman and Robin or Superman?

I was originally going to have a M'gann/Conner one, but that seems to be a bit overused. Any ideas?


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